


echolocation

by thebloodybaron (adorecas)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorecas/pseuds/thebloodybaron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron thinks about how and why he fell in love with Draco in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	echolocation

Ron waved his arms slowly through the water, the ripples emanating slowly from his body. He floated on his back, the dark sky expanding in all directions from where his eyes traced the constellations directly above him. He sighed, his feet treading the water, keeping him moving slowly backwards; his eyes drooped with contentment. 

Ron wasn't sure when it was that he had fallen in love. Perhaps it had been when his lover had suddenly dropped to one knee in the middle of Diagon Alley. Or maybe it was before that, when he had been lounging around their flat and found a trail of flower petals that had led to the best night of his life. Or perhaps even before that night; the day they’d moved in together, right after Voldemort had fallen. 

Ron shook his head, rippling the water slightly. 

He knew when he had fallen in love. He had felt that feeling in his chest, that tightening every time they saw each other; he had always felt that. He would always feel that. He could pinpoint the first time it had occurred, as well. He knew that part of his life like the back of a Quaffle. 

It had been the first time he had laid eyes on Draco Malfoy, that he’d felt…something about him. He didn't know what it was at the time, but he knew it was something unusual. Even though he had always been taught to despise people such as the Malfoys – prim, proper, snooty – something else clicked for him when he first met Draco. Ron's insides had turned to mush and he wanted to throw his arms around the boy and do whatever it was that Bill always did to the girlfriends he brought home – snogging? was that it? – even though he was at a complete loss as to how to do it. He hadn't said anything at the time, difficult as that was, because his new best friend Harry had taken an immediate dislike to Draco. Ron had felt terribly conflicted. On the one hand, he had always hated the Malfoys, because their families didn’t get along (to say the least). Regardless of that, Ron had certainly felt something else as well – something he was sure wasn’t animosity. It always seemed to be that way, through school. Harry and Draco would fight, and it would tear Ron up inside to defend his best friend against the one he had feelings for (whatever conflicted feelings those may have been). He hated that Draco always had to antagonize Harry and him. He always knew what to say to get Ron’s temper going – he would forget about the Draco he thought he wanted, and only wanted to beat senseless the one who ridiculed his family. But it didn't even matter. 

Draco always made it up to him. 

The first time they spoke civilly, Ron was scared of fainting – or perhaps screaming – from the sheer joy that threatened to burst out of his chest. Draco had said ‘Hello.' Ron was sure he was going to melt from it. He knew, from that one word, that there was something behind Draco's steely eyes. Something else, that was more than the snide, cruel face the public saw. More than the haughty lines of his jaw and sleek façade that was par for a Malfoy. (Of course, Ron thought Draco was anything but par.) Ron knew then that Draco loved him too, but neither of them ever had the guts to say a word. It was all nervous sidelong glances and momentary glimpses of slipping facades. 

Ron chuckled to himself, remembering both he and Draco's nervous attitudes for the first few years. It wasn't until sixth year, he recalled, that they made any progress. 

_"Shut the fuck up, Weasel! Merlin, I am tired of hearing your bloody whiny little voice! ‘Stop annoying Harry!' ‘Leave us alone!' ‘Bugger off!' You know if you had a chance to bugger me you would, so I don't know why you're always acting like such a prat!"_

_Ron fumed, his face turning crimson. He was unable to speak, rendered mute by the boy's words. Especially the last part – about buggering him. He had lost focus after that part, and was a little shaken._

_"What? Feeling a little embarrassed, are you, Ronald?"_

_Ron paused, his angered pose slacking a little. He eyes met Draco's and instead of loathing and anger there, he saw questions. Ron straightened up, breathing deeply. He knew it had to be now or never, and if he didn't, he would regret it until he died._

_Ron cleared his throat._

_"Got something to say, Weasley?" Draco asked, slightly uncertain. His voice belied only the tiniest bit of apprehension…or was it anticipation?_

_Ron stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The trophy room suddenly seemed much smaller and warmer than it had only moments ago. He took another tentative step forward, and this time Draco returned the gesture._

_"What…what are you doing, Weasel?" Draco asked. This time he sounded more nervous than anything._

_"I’m going to kiss you." Ron said matter-of-factly. And then he did._

_It was the world's most awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but that wasn't what was important. What was important was that it was a kiss, and that Draco returned the gesture._

_At least, that was, until he jerked back. "What do you think you're doing!?" he asked angrily. "I hate you!" he yelled, taking several steps away from the bewildered redhead._

_"I hate you too!" Ron shouted back, in sudden fury. It was absurd the way Draco was acting. He kissed me back! Ron told himself, trying to justify his actions. What on earth is wrong with this boy?_

_"Then why'd you kiss me?" Draco asked, still angry, but no longer shouting._

_"Because…Draco. I wanted to. And I'm glad I did. And I won't take it back. And, um…and because I like it. I mean, you! I like…you." Ron stuttered, unsure of his footing now. His face felt like it was soon to burst into flame._

_"I know you do, you prat!" Draco said, as if it were the most obvious statement in the history of their lives._

_"You…what?" Ron asked. "You knew? How!?"_

_"I'm not a fucking bat, Ronald. I have eyes. And even if I was a bat, echolocation could have figured that one out."_

_"I hate you…" Ron whispered. "You're the most annoying person I think I've ever met." He was suddenly realizing these things, and as they came to him, he simply spurted them out. "I hate how you always have to be right, and that you always have to antagonize Harry, and that you always show up at the most inconvenient times, and that you're simply a pain in my fucking arse."_

_Draco soaked in Ron's words, nodding slowly with each one._

_"It's because I'm the only one who's not afraid to tell you to shut the fuck up, or that you act like a stupid git all the time, or that you're piss poor, and all the other terrible things about you. I'd list them, but you know, humans die after a few decades…" Draco trailed off, sneering._

_"But I like you. No, I love you," Ron said. "And that's why. I love you because of those things. Because you're the one who will call me an ass, or a git, or any other foul name you can think of, and I don't mind."_

_"My God, Weasley, you're a fucking pansy! Gushing to me like a little school girl!" Draco scoffed, crossing his arms with an expression of disbelief on his face._

_Ron stood up from where he had leaned against the wall in surprise. He closed the distance that the other boy had created in two quick strides, placing his lips against Draco's before he had time to react. When the Slytherin finally did react, it was with a hand to the ginger's waist, and an impassioned kiss in return. After several long minutes, Ron broke away to breathe._

_"See? You love me too."_

_"Do not, you prat," Draco said, rolling his eyes, before kissing him again._

Ron grinned to himself in the night, still staring up at the stars. It had been that way ever since. Draco would tell Ron he was being a git, and Ron would mouth off about all the things Draco did to piss him off, and then they would make up. It never lasted long, when they fought. It was simply how they were. It worked for them. He was musing to himself quietly as he floating on his back, when the back door to the house beside him opened. 

"Ron? Are you in the bloody pool again?" came the thin voice of Draco Malfoy-Weasley. Ron returned a weak mumble, hoping the man wouldn't hear it. 

"Ronald get your arse out of that pool right now! God dammit we have things to be doing and all you do these days is swim around in that bloody pool you wanted and not help around the house! Your family is coming in three days and this place is a fucking pigsty! Get in here now!" 

Ron sighed, slowly getting out of the pool. As he dried off with a deliberate lack of haste, Draco started up again. This time, Ron cut him off: 

"My God man, do you want to wake the whole bloody neighborhood!? Do you see me getting out of the fucking pool? Don’t you have eyes!? Or would you prefer echolocation, because that seems to work better for you!?" 

Draco dropped the pile of laundry on the doorstep and stormed over, looking fiercely like his father, at the same moment the Ron decided to move, and they met in the middle, eye to eye. 

"I hate you, Ronald Weasley!" Draco spat. 

Ron's face softened a bit, and he grinned. "I love you too, baby," he said, pressing his lips to Draco's, following it quickly with his body. All the anger of seconds before simply melted away as the two men locked lips, limbs intertwining in passion. They moved awkwardly and slowly towards the back door, Draco trying to maneuver them into the house. They reached the step, and Draco suddenly broke the kiss, slipping into the house and slamming the door. 

"Pick up the fucking laundry, love," he said through the door. Ron sighed and grinned as he knelt to pick up the pile of towels where Draco had thrown them in his rage. 

"Love you more," he muttered as he let himself into their home.


End file.
